Truth and Consequences
by Kara1626
Summary: Hetty had warned them what would happen if they continued to disobey her. Sam just missed the signs. Tag to "Lokhay" and "Wanted". WARNING: Spanking of adults. Not your thing? Don't read it.
1. Chapter 1

**Hetty had warned them what would happen if they continued to disobey her. Sam just missed the signs. Tag to "Lokhay" and "Wanted". WARNING: Spanking of adults.**

Sam drove home on autopilot, Hetty's parting words replaying in his mind: _This is far from over_. What did that mean? He remembered the feeling in the pit of his stomach when he heard her say his name. He had joked with G, giving himself time to collect his nerves, and then with Hetty herself, hoping to diffuse the situation. _Am I grounded?_ he'd asked with his most charming grin. _Don't you dare make light of this, Mr. Hanna_. The gnawing in his stomach was joined by heart palpitations. He had seen Hetty angry before. In fact, he'd seen her furious. But it had never been directed at him. Until now.

Hetty had, uncharacteristically, given the team the morning off with orders to meet at the boatshed at 1300 sharp. Sam had spent a relaxing morning in bed with Michelle, played with his daughter, and even had a cup of coffee. However, as he drove to the boatshed, he started to question the wisdom of the coffee. While he was at home with his family, he had been able to push aside the ominous warning, but as he drew nearer to the moment of seeing Hetty again, he quickly became a ball of nerves.

Not surprisingly, G's car was not parked outside the boatshed. Was G ever on time for anything? Sam got out of his car and began a slow walk across the gravel. He noticed neither Deeks' nor Kensi's cars were there either. Eric's was, and Hetty's was. He checked his watch: 1259. He tried to brush off the uneasy feeling and increasing jitteriness, but his hand shook just slightly as he opened the door.

"Right on time, Mr. Hanna," Hetty commented, predictably.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he nodded a greeting to Eric, who nodded back solemnly then glanced pointedly at the table in the middle of the room. Sam's gaze followed Eric's. He let out the breath he'd been holding and closed his eyes momentarily. "Really, Hetty?" he asked.

Hetty pursed her lips and stared him down. "I warned you," she replied.

"Not about this!" Sam protested.

"Mr. Hanna, we will discuss this later." Her word was final, and Sam wisely held his tongue. "Mr. Beal, if you will."

"Hetty, you don't have to do this," Sam quickly interjected.

"Mr. Beal knew the consequences before he decided to disobey me," she stated as if they were talking about the weather or a horserace, and not about…well, that. "Mr. Beal," she invited again.

Eric swallowed hard, took his hands out of his wisely-chosen canvas cargo shorts with the extra thick pockets in the back, and bent over with his elbows on the table. Hetty picked up the paddle that she had placed there the night before and delivered twenty hard swats to Eric's backside. Having been in this position before, Eric knew what to expect, but, just like last time, he was surprised at how much strength and power his 4' 9" boss could wield when she had a paddle in her hands. His previous encounter with Hetty's paddle had been a brief, but painful one, owing to the fact that on that day, he had worn boardshorts, having no idea what a meeting in the boatshed with Hetty really entailed. In spite of his change in wardrobe, Hetty managed to get her point across, while Eric, determined not to cry out in front of Sam, suffered in near silence.

Sam watched the sight in front of him, horrified. He could tell Eric was hurting from his clenched fists, red face and tightly squeezed eyes. Part of him wanted to force Hetty to stop, but he held back. He wasn't quite sure why he stood there in silence and watched his friend take a hard paddling, but he did, and almost as soon as it started, it was over.

Hetty placed a hand gently on Eric's back. "We're finished, Mr. Beal."

Eric stayed in position for a few moments to catch his breath then slowly pushed himself up from the table. He took a deep breath before turning toward his boss. "I'm sorry, Hetty. I shouldn't have disobeyed you. Again."

"All is forgiven," Hetty answered kindly, and patted Eric's arm. Eric nodded, still biting his lip. "You may head back now." Eric nodded again and turned to leave. "Oh, and Mr. Beal," Hetty called after him, "leave the cameras off until Mr. Hanna and I return." Eric nodded once more then flashed a grin and a wink at Sam before disappearing through the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam shifted nervously, staring at the floor. Hundreds of thoughts swirled through his head at once. _How did I get here? How did I not know this would happen? If that's what Eric got for helping me, what am _I_ getting?_

Lost in his thoughts, Sam failed to notice Hetty had left the room until he heard her call him from the hallway. He snapped back to the present and noticed that not only was Hetty gone, so was the paddle. Following the direction of her call, Sam found himself standing in the doorway of the interrogation room.

"Well?" Hetty asked, almost impatiently. "Come in."

Sam took two hesitant steps into the room and Hetty pushed the door closed. His head snapped up when he heard the lock click. _What was she planning to _do_ to him?! _

"Hetty," he began immediately, hoping to talk her out of whatever she was about to do. But she held up her hand, and Sam lost his nerve.

"I told you I had decided to punish you, and I had hoped my unconventional methods last week would have deterred you from further disobedience. However, I see I was unsuccessful," Hetty lectured. "When I tell you not to do something, Mr. Hanna, I have my reasons. And more often than not, those reasons are for your own protection and for the protection of my team."

"But if I hadn't been there, Michelle would have died!" Sam shouted.

Hetty raised an eyebrow, and Sam quickly looked away. "Do you trust me, Sam?" she asked quietly. Sam wrestled with the question for a long time before he finally nodded, still looking at the floor. "Are you sure?" Hetty pressed.

"I'm sure," Sam whispered.

"Yes, Michelle was in danger," Hetty conceded quietly, "but Mr. Callen, Mr. Deeks and Ms. Blye were there, as were several other undercover agents. I would not have sent my team – or your family – in without adequate protection."

"But I was the one…" Sam began.

"Yes, you were," Hetty interrupted. "But if it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else. Your bullets were not the only ones recovered from the body." She let the truth of what had happened that day sink in, and watched as Sam struggled to accept it.

"Someone else shot that bastard too?" he asked, finally looking up. Hetty nodded. Sam winced. "I'm sorry, Hetty. I really am."

"What for?" she asked leadingly.

Sam took the bait for what it was and sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you to protect us. I'm sorry I defied you again. I'm sorry I went around you to do what I thought was best. And I'm sorry I hurt you," he added.

"Thank you, Sam. That means a lot," she answered gently, placing her hand on his arm. "Now," she continued sharply after a moment of silence, "there is still the matter of your punishment."

"Do we really have to do this? I really am sorry," Sam protested.

"Of course we do," Hetty answered, sounding slightly amused. "I can't go around making idle threats now, can I? No one will take me seriously, and you'll all start doing whatever, whenever."

"No we won't, I promise!" Sam argued. But Hetty pursed her lips again, and Sam knew the discussion was over. He took a deep breath and let it out forcefully before turning toward the table and bending over.

"Oh no, Mr. Hanna, not like that," Hetty said, picking up the paddle. Sam straightened up and looked at her, confusion creasing his forehead. Hetty glanced at his jeans and gestured with the paddle.

"Are you kidd…" Sam began. But when Hetty cleared her throat, he knew there was no point in finishing his question. He gave her a sideways glare, then unfastened and pushed his jeans down forcefully, hoping to relay to her his displeasure.

"Is that really the attitude you want to take with me right now?" Hetty asked warningly. Sam shot her another look then bent over again.

"All right," Hetty responded, "have it your way."

The paddle landed with such force Sam was sure there was someone else in the room swinging it. "Ow!" he spat out before he could catch himself. The paddle landed again with the same result.

"Hetty, please!" Sam cried. But Hetty stayed silent, concentrating on the task in front of her. Sam had tried to comfort himself with the fact that she would only spank him twenty times, but when number twenty-one landed and she showed no sign of stopping, he buried his face in his arms and tried to hold back the tears.

_You're being ridiculous!_ he thought to himself. _You're a grown man. You can handle this. It's just a spanking…_ He gritted his teeth against the pain.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a long, uncomfortable day, and all Sam wanted to do was go home and lick his wounds. When Hetty finally released the team for the night, Sam grabbed his keys and meant to make a beeline for the door.

"You look like you could use a drink," Callen said, stepping in between Sam and the exit.

"Not really," Sam answered moodily.

"Maybe you should rephrase that," Eric, who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, said helpfully.

"I think you're probably right," Callen replied with his characteristic grin. "Sam, we're taking you for a drink."

"I'm not going," Sam answered with his characteristic scowl.

Twenty minutes later, the trio sat at a table at the local brewery, sipping microbrews as Eric and Callen chatted idly, and Sam brooded.

"So," Callen said, finally turning to Sam. "How bad was it?" Sam shot him a look. "Those jeans were a good choice I'd say, wouldn't you, Eric?"

"Well," Eric considered for a moment, matching Callen's teasing smile, "you would think so, but Hetty's shockingly strong for her size." A brief moment of panic came across Eric, but after quickly scanning the dimly lit room and finding it to be decidedly Hetty-free, he relaxed again.

"And I suppose," Callen added, "depending on the level of Hetty's displeasure, the jeans might even have been moot."

"Oh, I wouldn't know about that," Eric replied. "I've never managed to make Hetty mad enough to find out."

"That's probably for the best," Callen answered, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Wait! You _knew_ about this?" Sam demanded. "You knew what she would do to me? Why didn't you tell me?"

"How would that have been fun?" Callen replied.

"Fun?" Sam shouted. "What's fun about…" he trailed off, having noticed others in the room were staring at him. "What's fun about getting your ass beat by your boss?" he growled quietly.

"I didn't mean fun for _you._"

Sam clenched his jaw, and gave Callen a threatening look. "I'll give you a 3-second head start before I come after you."

Callen turned to Eric, ignoring Sam's bluster. "You took it a lot better than he did when you found out," he said, shrugging.

"Yeah," Eric answered, "but I suppose I don't have the same tough-guy reputation to uphold. It didn't really matter that I didn't know until after the fact."

Callen nodded, mockingly, "That is an _excellent_ point." Then sobering, he turned to a still fuming, but now slightly confused Sam. "Look, Sam, it happens to the best of us eventually. And when it happened to me for the first time, and the second time, now that I think about it, I didn't have anyone to commiserate with."

Sam looked from Callen to Eric and back again. "You still should have told me," he finally answered, softening.

"Maybe, but what would you have done if you knew?"

Sam considered this for a moment. "Ok, you're right. It's better I didn't know. But believe me, that is the last time!"

Callen turned to Eric. "He's adorable," he laughed.

Sam lunged at Callen who dropped the twenty he was holding on the table and made a run for the door, followed quickly by Eric. Sam watched them leave then sat back and resumed sipping his beer. An evil grin spread across his face. "Just remember G," he said to the air, "payback's a bitch."


End file.
